“Let me ruin my body and relationships so once I’m sentenced do feel sorry and cry for me.”
When the time comes where the crowd goes it is nothing but on you to keep going.
If life is a teacher to the student then why is it that nobody is showing up in town with notepads & pens attached to their hands; skipping, failing, repeating—expelling.
So much for a corrupted and patronizing system that violates the safety and peace of mind of the intentionally honest citizen; that is, trust no one.
Once upon a time, yesterday, I stumbled upon a stunned mosquito in the living room. They were on their back fluttering their wings trying to survive, to get back on their legs, to live for one more day. With all the almighty power of a human being I released them outside and when it was time to forget about it; I sensed, “Thank you.”
Humankind sinned and therefore was punished for eating a free, natural and healthy food apple; laryngeal prominence, or any one’s definition.
The weak version of the rebel.
Stranger; “Let’s laugh, because I don’t have a moustache.”
Me; “What was I thinking, let’s ask your wife.”
Be wary of the lies told about me for these lay out the facts that those mouths do not know me; be wary of the million faces from the dumps, they would never be an invitee—watch—at any dinner party with me.
“No nail clipping after midnight,” hushes the neighbour and that’s what I thought.
“Give me them points.”
If anything they make us prouder by confirming and reminding us our rights and position louder.
When was the last time you walked up in a health care institute and was greeted with a basket of granola and water. Sounds crazy isn’t it.
And anyone who strikes feelings of terror at an oppressor for peace and justice with/without a beard.
No bra—à l’aise quoi.
When anything you do/are can be explained, excused by a simple formula; “I’m Jewish.”
The insult version of the spirituality.
The patients are now proud, competing over who’s got the worse illness, then one woman confidently said; “I have chemo,” and still I couldn’t tell.
The less you know about someone’s love relationship the better this said relationship is.
With dirty open wrists dripping, and later stitched into battle scars I never begged for pills. But a clean ass punk gets a foot in and comes back stuffed like there’s no tomorrow.